


Sasha Louhi

by Julie_fjad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Dark Magic, F/M, Gen, Magic, Mythology References, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 13:12:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2694344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julie_fjad/pseuds/Julie_fjad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha is kidnapped by Death Eaters, one night, who plan to use her for some fun. They think they have caught a 'mere muggle' - they are very wrong. Voldemort sees an opportunity and sends her to Hogwarts, to spy alongside Severus Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> In this story I attempt to follow as closely as possible the fifth book (Order of the Phoenix), with the addition of my OC. I don’t make all of it (the two sides of the war, specifically) as black and white as J.K. Rowling did, however.  
> The Harry Potter universe and its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. My OC and any mythology I’ve added in this belong to my own mind.   
> If you have suggestions, opinions, ideas,… I’d love to hear about them. I always welcome ways to better my writing.   
> Enjoy!

She was returning home, early in the morning, after having gone to a concert. As usual, she entertained herself by observing the few people she passed in the streets as she enjoyed the refreshingly cold air hitting her face. Most, at this hour, weren’t sober.

When she walked past an alley, her right arm was suddenly grabbed by an unknown hand. She stumbled into the small street. Before she could react, the world around her was swallowed in darkness.


	2. Chapter One

She awakes on a cold stone floor. Her limbs hurt. It’s quite a sombre room she finds herself in. She’s confused about the location. Still, there is enough light to make out her surroundings. She stirs, trying to sit up.

“Get up!” a male voice hisses from behind her. Once again a hand grips her arm and pulls her up roughly. She almost falls down again. The same voice hisses once more: “Walk!”

She’s pushed towards a doorway. Stepping forward, she blinks a few times, sorting out her thoughts in the process. Her mind finally clear, she observes the room she’s in. It reminds her of a grand ballroom, found only in old mansions. The few carved details she can see in this near-darkness are beautiful, she notices. Next, she concentrates on the double doors in front of her. One is slightly opened; she slips through the opening, urged by the unknown people behind her. She is too curious to try and find an exit. She knows she needn’t worry – she can take care of herself.

The next room is as grand as the last. This one appears to be a dining room, as the long table to her right indicates. Around it, many figures clad in black are seated. She notices the few odd and puzzled looks that are sent her way. At the head sits an inhuman looking man. He has a snake’s features. She steps closer to the table. She feels the magic buzzing in the air.

“You have _got_ to be kidding me,” she murmurs, exasperated, when she senses it. She stops walking when she’s near the man at the head of the table.

“What is all that mumbling supposed to mean, muggle?” The snake-like man spats. His tone implies he isn’t all too happy to be speaking to her, “You won’t speak unless ordered to.”

She raises her eyebrows, “Muggle?”

“Non-magical creature,” someone unidentified quietly explains, behind her.

“Oh,” she smiles, “non-magical? Sure, whatever you like to think.”

The man narrows his eyes. She almost expects him to reprimand her like a naughty schoolgirl for speaking out of turn. When he lifts his wand, her eyes widen for a moment; surprised.

Before he can word the spell, his wand flies out of his hand. Furious, he gets up – his robes floating along – and watches his followers. Most of them try to hide in their seats.

“Who dares to disarm me?” His voice is ice cold, as are his red eyes. Still observing the table, he stretches out his right hand in the direction of his fallen wand. The wood flies back to its owner.

He notices the girl smiling mockingly. “What?” he hisses, annoyed with not knowing something this lowly muggle obviously does.

“Well, I find it mildly amusing that you are accusing your _dear_ followers of something they didn’t do.”

“So you are a witch with wandless powers, are you?” he sneers, finally guessing what is going on.

“Do you have any idea who I am?”

“You’re an evil wizard?” she suggests, shrugging mockingly.

Furious, he raises his wand again, “ _Crucio!_ ”

The spell doesn’t reach her. It bounces off an invisible wall in front of her and dissipates. Her eyes are closed tightly in concentration, her body is tensed. When she opens them again, she’s met with a furious glare.

“Who and what are you?” He demands, rage flaming in his red eyes. His followers don’t dare to move.

“I’m a witch,” she states, “though obviously not alike your kind,” she then adds, frowning pensively at his wand. Thoughts about who these people might be travel through her mind.

“Impossible. Speak the truth!”

“I am speaking the truth. My name is Sasha Louhi, and you are?” Her voice is relaxed as opposed to the strange man’s fury – no one would suspect her turmoil and confusion about these people, safely concealed in her mind.

He ignores her question, “That’s-”

“Quite possible, my Lord, if I may?” a man’s deep voice speaks. He is seated at the ‘lord’s’ left side. As he raises his head to speak, his black, shoulder length hair falls back, revealing sharp features and a prominent, roman nose. This must be one of his more loyal followers, she deduces, as he isn’t reprimanded for interrupting the leader.

“Continue.”

“Yes, my Lord. In Finnish myth there is a witch who can do wandless, wordless magic. Her name is Louhi.”

She nods, “Indeed. She’s an ancestor of mine.” At her answer the black-haired man glances at her for a short moment, before turning back to his master, waiting for his reaction to this information.

With new interest the leader appraises her, “Are you aware of the war we are currently in?”

“I am not. I’ve been living among muggles, as you call them, for many years now. I assume you wish to recruit me?”

“Perhaps. Severus,” he turns to the black-haired man, “you will inform her of the current situation, as well as introduce her to that old fool as a new student. If she doesn’t agree with us, kill her.” The leader speaks as though she isn’t standing in the same room.

“And I shall just agree with everything?” Sasha wonders out loud, “I’ll just let _him_ ,” she nods to Severus, “kill me if I don’t agree?”

“It has been decided,” the leader speaks, finally, “Dismissed.”

All of them get up while their leader vanishes before she has a chance to object.

Severus approaches her, “Come,” he simply orders, before continuing on his way to the exit.

“Why should I?”

The man glares at her, “Considering you don’t even know what I will tell you, I suggest you at least hear me out before making a decision you may later on regret. You may be able to deflect his curse, but, I assure you, blocking ten or twenty of those will not be as easy.”


	3. Chapter Two

He brings her to a medieval castle – they apparate there, as he calls it. It’s beautiful. She has always liked these kinds of places. It’s intriguing, full of mystery, dark.

She follows him to the entrance. His cloak billows out behind him. The entrance hall is empty. She looks around as they ascend the stairs. The castle is really beautiful, she envies those who work or study here – though she wouldn’t want to be stuck in a castle, however beautiful, year-round.

They arrive at two gargoyles. Severus murmurs something indiscernible – a password, presumably – and a moving staircase appears. At the top, behind a door, they arrive in a rather unusual office. The rounded room is filled, top to bottom, with special, unique artefacts and many books. Behind the desk an old man is seated. He looks up at them, observing them through his half-moon shaped glasses.

“Severus? Who is this young lady?” He questions the dark man.

“Not to be disrespectful, sir, but may I first inquire who you are?”

“Of course,” the man nods, “I’m Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of this school.”

She faintly recognizes that name, but she can’t place it. Perhaps she once read about him? She does, sometimes, read books about the magical world she knows exists next to the non-magical one, even though she never got into contact with this world, until now.

“There’s no need to worry, you’re safe here,” he continues with a soft, calming voice when she doesn’t react immediately, mistaking her silence for fear. She simply nods.

“So you don’t know who I am? You are a witch, yes?”

“I am indeed, though not exactly the same way all of you are. My name is Sasha Louhi.”

“Louhi? Where have I heard that name before?”

“In Finnish mythology, presumably,” Severus drawls from beside her.

“Ah yes, thank you Severus, I thought it sounded familiar. So you are the descendant of Louhi, which explains your different powers.”

She nods, “Indeed.”

“And, pray tell, Ms Louhi, why are you here, now?”

In her stead Severus explains calmly, “Rowle and a few others, in hopes of having some ‘fun’, decided to kidnap a muggle, last night. But when Dolohov reached out to touch her, while she was unconscious, he was thrown back. He thought Rowle or one of the others had done it, but all denied it. The Dark Lord stepped in and ordered them to bring her to him, so he could question her. He ordered her to spy for him at the school, among the students, when he found out about her, seemingly unique, powers.”

Sasha raises her eyebrows at him, “You’re a spy,” she deduced, “Alright then. Seems to be full of surprises, this world of yours,” she states.

Dumbledore’s eyes seem to twinkle in amusement behind his glasses, “He is indeed. Severus works as a spy for our side, pretending to be on their side.”

Unbelievingly she raises her eyebrows, “How can you be so certain? He tells the exact same thing to that ‘lord’.”

“I will answer that question, in time. But, Ms Louhi, you simply agreed to Voldemort’s idea? Should we be worried?”

She smiles, “Honestly, I didn’t even know there was an actual war going on. I was too busy trying to live a ‘normal’ life, for once. He ordered me to side with him, or he’d have me killed. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Well, I’m sure Severus will explain everything shortly. We do still have to sort you into a house, however.”

“It might be better if she actually knows what a house is, before she’s sorted into one, don’t you think, headmaster?”

“Yes, yes, true, indeed. Why don’t you both go to your office then, Severus, and explain everything to her? Afterwards you and Ms Louhi can come back here. In the meantime I’ll notify a couple of the most involved Order members.”

Severus nods and turns to the door, “Come,” he orders once again. Sasha, a bit confused by all of this, follows after a last nod to the headmaster.

In the corridors his long legs allow him to walk quickly. She barely  manages to keep up. They descend many staircases until they arrive in the dungeons. He stops abruptly at a wooden door. After moving his wand in a certain pattern, the door opens by itself. He goes in first. When she, too, is inside, the door slams closed behind her. They’ve arrived in an office. He sits down in a leather chair behind a dark, wooden desk. She sits down in front of him, on the other side of the desk, in another black chair. She waits patiently as he opens the left drawer and takes out a bottle and a tumbler. He fills the glass with an amber liquid. He questioningly looks at her while still holding the bottle, silently asking her whether she wants a drink. “No, thank you.”

He puts the bottle away again and throws back the tumbler. He leans back in his chair, turning the emptied glass around in his hands, observing her with obsidian eyes.

“What do you know about this world and ‘our kind’ of magic, as you put it?” he grumbles.

“Not much. I’ve never socialised with your world as I’ve always tried to remain unnoticed. I did read a couple of books, however that was quite some time ago.”

He raises one eyebrow, another silent question, ‘why stay in the shadows?’

“I have enemies who are looking for me; who’d better not know where I am. As soon as I find a way to end them, though, I’ll look for them, instead of the other way around.”

“Hm. I shall tell you – as briefly as possible, I don’t have all day – everything of importance to your stay here, then.”

He explains the origin of the war to her, starting with the founding of Hogwarts and the conflict between Slytherin and the other three founders, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Next about Voldemort and his followers (he even shows her, with some reluctance, his dark mark). And the history of Harry Potter, whose parents were murdered by the madman. He tells her about how he finally felt some remorse and decided to turn back to the light. (She feels, however, he isn’t telling her everything about that remorse.) And then, about his status as a spy as well as about the Order of the Phoenix. Finally, he tells her about the last few years with Potter and friends.

“Any questions?”

She shakes her head in the negative, “No, not yet anyway.”

He nods.

“So now I have to get sorted?”

“Indeed. But first: have you decided which side you’re on?”

“How will you know whether I speak the truth?”

“Do you know legilimency? The power of invading one’s mind, seeing their memories as well as feeling the feelings paired with them?”

“Mind-reading, you mean?

He snorts at the ‘muggle’ term, “Yes.”

“I never practised mind-magic of that kind, no.”

He raises his wand. Surprised, she tenses and watches him, “What are you doing?”

“I’ll use legilimency on your mind to find out whose side you are on.”

“What if I lied, and I have, in fact, practised mind-magic? After all, now that I know you’re on the light side, I could pretend to be with you and then go tell the Dark Lord about your real loyalty.”

“We’ll see,” he simply answers, “ _Legilimens!_ ”

She closes her eyes, instinctively trusting this man.

Flashes of the last few hours pass their mind’s eyes, the last few days, months, years. He flips through them, reviewing her past, until the flashes suddenly stop at one strong memory.

_She was but a small child, eight years old at most. She ran through a forest until she arrived at a small village. She felt excited and couldn’t wait to tell mother and father about her adventures of the day. There were perhaps twenty houses, all made out of wattle and daub in wooden frames, grouped around an open space. She ran towards a house that was built a bit farther away from the open space than the others. Inside the home was dark, cold. The only light came from the doorway, no fire was lit. She felt her excitement diminish, a strange sense of foreboding overcame her. As she entered she saw why. A woman lay on the floor, unmoving. “Mother!” the girl cried out, her voice full of anguish and pain. Getting closer to the deadly-white woman she saw another, bloodied body on the ground, a man, “Father!”_

_With a gut-wrenching inner pain she realized: they were dead._

She harshly falls back into her chair. Severus, who had stood to cast the spell, stumbles backward, surprised by what he’s seen. Both are breathing heavily. He sees, for the first time, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. For a moment she closes her eyes. She breathes in deeply, calming herself. Seconds later she looks up again. The deep, dark blue is harsh again, cold and unfeeling, the slight moisture has disappeared. He silently wonders how she can possibly stay this calm after reliving such an experience. It’s rather disturbing.

“That was certainly different,” she states with an even, nearly cold, voice.

“How old are you?” His voice is stern.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

“How old do I look?”

“I’m not talking about your physical appearance. When were you born?”

Ah. He must’ve noticed the memory he saw was a lot older than the fifteen or so years it should’ve been since she was eight. Considering she’s showed him her innermost thoughts, she might as well give him her birthdate too, “I was born on the 24th of October 1695.”

“How?” He obviously doesn’t know whether to believe her or not, despite having seen that memory. Witches and wizards do live longer than muggles, but they can’t live for three hundred years – and even over three hundred, apparently, as she doesn’t seem to be old or fragile at all – with the exception of Nicolas Flamel and his wife, since they used the Philosopher’s Stone. On top of that, she can’t possibly look this young after having lived for such a long time. Even magic – at least the magic he knows of, which isn’t little – can’t disguise old-age for long. But she’s a different kind of witch, and he doesn’t know the details of her powers.

“Our bloodline, the Louhi-line, that is, has the power of making us live longer and look any age we want. Most of our line decided to live out a normal human life and let their body die. By keeping one’s body at a rather young age and not letting it age, one can live much longer, which is what I did. I have no idea how long this can last for, however, as no one’s ever actually tried to live endlessly. The reason I do this is to avenge my parents. I’ll only let myself die once their murderer has suffered and died.” Her voice was ruthless and emotionless as she spoke the last few words.

He doesn’t comment on any of it, he only stores the information for later reflection.

“And what about you?” she then asks, as if she hadn’t just spoken those words, “Which side are you on? Are you a simple spy or a double agent, walking the sharp edge?”

“I told you, I’m a spy on the so-called ‘light side’.”

“How do I know for sure? You say you felt remorse, but is that enough? I’ve seen plenty of the Dark Arts and I know one can’t just simply let go of it, just because one decides it.”

He doesn’t ask her what exactly she knows about the Dark Arts, he knows he’ll find out in due time. For now, he knows enough by viewing her memories. “It indeed was not easy to overcome the dark. Point is, I did, and that was a long time ago. Therefore I assure you, I am with Albus in this war, just like you.”

“How are you so sure I am too?”

“I didn’t just see that memory, I briefly sensed a few other parts of your life as well, which means that, even though I didn’t see those memories as explicitly as the last one, I know you went through a dark phase and got out. I know you’ll do the right thing and not willingly succumb to the dark, however appealing it may be to you.”

She nods in understanding. He’s right about his observations.

He gets up and she follows his lead. While walking back to the headmaster’s office she realizes she’s quite hungry. As soon as they arrive at the entrance with the gargoyles, her stomach starts to rumble.

“Lunch is being served in a few minutes. We’ll go shortly after the sorting,” Severus tells her, before uttering the password.

Upstairs, Dumbledore is waiting for them with an old hat placed in front of him, on his desk – the sorting hat, she now knows.

“Welcome back. Please, sit,” he gestures, smilingly, towards the two empty chairs. Sasha sits down while Severus remains standing. Dumbledore gets up to place the tattered hat on her head. She casts her eyes down to the floor, listening to the hat’s voice in her head: “Well, well, well, what have we got here? You are quite a bit older than the usual new students, aren’t you? Let’s see… You are quite intelligent, no doubt about that, brave too. You certainly know what you want. You do possess a dark side, don’t you? Sly, ambitious, but, at times, chivalrous as well. We shall put you in… Slytherin!”

Dumbledore looks worried, Severus looks rather pleased, and Sasha is already thinking about how she could become acquainted with Potter and the others, in order to gain some information, to deceive the Dark Lord.

She removes the hat and places it back on the desk. She then looks at a pensive, frowning Dumbledore, “So, any idea on how to win Potter’s trust, or should I simply follow my instincts?”

He looks up, “Just be civil when encountering Harry and his friends. I’ll give you further directions, soon. For now you shouldn’t let them know who you really are.”

She nods.

“And here is your uniform,” he adds, as he hands her the robes. She lays them on the desk and puts both hands on them. She quietly murmurs something indiscernible, and the clothes are swapped: those she was wearing are folded on the desk and she now wears the uniform. Neither of the wizards comment on the magic she used.


	4. Chapter Three

Severus accompanies her to the entrance of the great hall.  
  
“From now on you should call me Professor Snape, among the students,” he tells her, before leaving her at the entrance. Many students watch her curiously as she walks to the table where she sees students wearing the same colours she is. She sits down, and looks up to the teacher’s table. Severus comes in, his robes flowing dramatically, and takes his seat. He looks at her and nods once, before focusing on his plate.  
  
“New student, are you?” an obnoxious voice comes from her left side. She looks at the girl. She has a round face and medium-length brown hair. Sasha simply nods, hoping the girl won’t say anything more, as she has an annoyingly loud and piercing voice. Sadly, she continues, “Why are you so late? Classes started weeks ago.”  
  
“That’s none of your business.”  
  
The girl watches her through suspicious eyes, “Hm.”  
  
“And why is that?” asks a boy who’s seated in front of her. He has white blonde, short hair and high cheekbones. He reminds her of someone.  
  
She doesn’t answer him, but asks a question instead, “Are you Lucius’ son?”  
  
When Severus explained everything, earlier, he told her who the most prominent Death Eaters were, describing a few characteristic traits of each so she would know which name belonged to which face.  
  
His eyes widen, he appears smug when he answers, “Yes. I’m Draco Malfoy. You know my father?”  
  
She watches him pensively, “Sort of.” Meanwhile she thinks, ‘Well, I saw him at a Death Eater meeting, does that count? Hmm.’  
  
“You didn’t answer my question,” he then states.  
  
“Indeed.” She enjoys tormenting the boy, he looks far too happy with himself.  
  
“Well?” He’s obviously waiting for an answer.  
  
“Well nothing.”  
  
The boy doesn’t look happy at not getting his way. He seems like a typical spoiled little brat who’s used to always getting what he wants.  
  
She finishes eating – in silence, thankfully; the rest of them noticed she wouldn’t let them know anything, for now. She leaves the table and its suspicious occupants, and continues to the hall’s entrance. She’s going through when a girl crashes into her. The girl instantly starts apologizing, “Oh dear, I’m so sorry, I didn’t look where I was going—”  
  
Sasha was about to interrupt her, to tell her it was okay, but a deep, familiar voice is quicker, “Obviously, Ms Granger. Ten points from Gryffindor.”  
  
The Granger girl doesn’t look up and silently heads to her table. Sasha raises her eyebrows to Severus, “That was a bit harsh.”  
  
He doesn’t answer, “Follow me,” he states, “I’ll show you the Slytherin dormitories.”  
  
She shrugs and simply follows him. Several students go out of their way to avoid the professor. “I met Lucius’ son,” she tells him when they arrive in a deserted corridor.  
  
“Draco.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“No, you should say Draco. The students will wonder how you know Lucius’ first name, otherwise.”  
  
“Oh, okay.”  
  
“It’s here, the password is ‘Pureblood’.” He taps the stone once with his wand, the stones move aside and a doorway appears.  
  
She nods, “There’s just one problem; I don’t have a wand.”  
  
“Right. Let’s go to my office. There we’ll be sure not to be overheard.”  
  
In his office he explains the way a wand chooses its wizard or witch, and how despite the fact that a wand that isn’t one’s actual wand won’t work as well, it will often work for, at least, simple spells.  
  
“Considering you don’t actually need one, only to integrate and be unnoticed, it won’t matter which wand you have. As soon as I’ve procured one, I’ll call for you.”  
  
“Okay, but in the meanwhile I have to go to class, don’t I?”  
  
“I’ll talk to the headmaster about that. Since it is but a week until the end of the semester, you don’t have to follow those classes; or not actively, if you do decide to go. Before the start of the next semester, you’ll have your wand.”  
  
She nods, “Thank you, Severus.”  
  
“Professor, or sir.”  
  
“Yes, in public areas.”  
  
“Hm.”  
  
She smiles, “Good afternoon.”  
  
He nods curtly. With a movement of his hand, the door opens and she leaves.

  


The rest of the day Sasha spends exploring the castle. It’s quite interesting, especially the magical qualities about it, such as the living portraits and the moving staircases. On her walk she nearly bumps into a woman who’s just coming from around the corner. She’s clad entirely in pink. Sasha absolutely abhors that colour. The woman is small, chubby and kind of looks like a toad.  
  
“Well, well, well. What have we got here?”  
  
Ugh, not another one with an annoying voice.  
  
“Why aren’t you in class?”  
  
“I’m just a new student, looking around,” Sasha answers, “Not causing trouble of any kind, don’t worry,” she smiles.  
  
“Do not talk to me like that! Don’t you have any respect? Come with me.”  
  
“What? Why?” She doesn’t get an answer, but, in order to not cause a scene and stay – somewhat, at least – unnoticed, she follows.  
  
They arrive at the woman’s office – an atrocious pink room filled with bows, lace napkins and cats painted on plates covering the walls. Once they sit down, the professor asks, “So you are the new student?”  
  
“Indeed, Professor.”  
  
“Now tell me, why didn’t you come to Hogwarts when you were eleven?”  
  
“I was home schooled.” The woman is suspicious, Sasha notices. But why does she ask such questions? Her position in this school is lower than the headmaster’s, so shouldn’t she simply trust him? “Why do you ask, professor? I’m sure the headmaster will explain all of this, if he hasn’t already.”  
  
“Do you know who I am and why I’m here, child?”  
  
Ha, ‘child’, if only she knew… “To teach?”  
  
“That too. My name is Dolores Umbridge – that’s professor Umbridge to you – and I’m a ministry official. I’m here to keep an eye on this school, for the ministry. Therefore I can ask you whatever I want to. Not that I should justify myself to you, but you are new, which is why you apparently don’t know everything yet.” She seemed to be talking to herself, in that last sentence. “Now, tell me,” she continues, “why aren’t you being home-schooled anymore?”  
  
“My parents died.”  
  
“You say that very calmly, almost emotionless.” Yep, she’s still suspicious.  
  
“I am not an overly emotional girl and I don’t like to talk about it, professor, does it matter?”  
  
“No… Not at all… And in which year are you?”  
  
“Fifth year.”  
  
“You appear to be older.”  
  
“Yes, well, I’m seventeen but Professor Dumbledore decided to put me in fifth year anyway. You should talk to him about that.”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry, I certainly will.”  
  
“Will that be all?”  
  
“Mm, yes, for now. Be sure to follow the rules. Breaking them will, most certainly, result in a detention.”  
  
“Yes, that’s normal, is it not?”  
  
“Indeed, child. Have a nice day …?”  
  
“Sasha, Sasha Louhi.”  
  
“Have a nice day, Ms Louhi.”  
  
“You too, professor.”  
  
She is happy to finally be out of that room. Truly annoying, that woman. She’s startled by a girl’s voice, next to her, “So you had to talk to her, did you?”  
  
Sasha looks up; it’s the same girl she bumped into before, the Granger-girl who got points taken by Severus. She’s got voluminous brown curls and brown eyes. When she sees it’s Sasha, she looks surprised, “Oh, I’m sorry. Never mind.”  
  
“Wait, it’s okay,” she calls her back, “I know your last name’s Granger, what about your first name?”  
  
“Oh, um, I’m Hermione. I’m from Gryffindor,” she then adds. Hermione seems to be surprised she’s talking to her, and a bit suspicious as well.  
  
‘So this is one of Harry’s friends, if I’m not mistaken; that’s convenient,’ Sasha thinks as she recognises the name as one Severus mentioned when talking about Harry Potter and his friends.  
  
“Yes, I noticed when professor Snape took points, earlier,” Sasha smiles, “I’m Sasha, by the way, Sasha Louhi.”  
  
“Okay... Nice to meet you, Sasha. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m simply surprised you’re talking to me; I’m a Gryffindor, you’re a Slytherin. Our two houses don’t usually interact. Not civilly, anyway. But you’re new, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yes, I am, I guess that’s why I don’t really care about this thing between Gryffindor and Slytherin.”  
  
“That must be it. And your parents must not have told you about all of the rivalry then?”  
  
“Well, they never went here.”  
  
Hermione nods understandingly, not asking anymore questions about the subject, to Sasha’s surprise,  
  
“Anyhow, I’m going to the library, do you want to come along?”  
  
“Yes, sure, I love books.”  
  
“Great, finally someone who does, my other two friends hate the library.”  
  
“Well, shame on them,” Sasha laughs.  
  
The library is huge. It smells of old paper and dust. She immediately loves the place. Together they look through the collection. After a while she asks, “Hey, Hermione, are you looking for something specific?”  
  
Hermione pops her head around the corner of the rack Sasha’s browsing, “Not really, I’m just trying to find something interesting, to read as a pastime. Why?”  
  
“I thought I could help you, if you were looking for something, that’s all.”  
  
“Okay,” Hermione smiles at her and returns to her rack. She seems surprised Sasha would want to help her.  
  
A short while later the library doors open. A boy’s voice calls out, “’mione? You here? Oh, there you are.”  
  
Somewhere someone hushes him.  
  
“Not so loud, Ron, what’s the matter,” Hermione’s voice answers.  
  
“Nothing, really, we were just wondering if you could look over our potions’ essays,” another boy’s voice explains.  
  
Sasha goes towards where they are standing, rounding the corner of a rack to look if those two voices indeed belong to Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter, as she suspects.  
  
Hermione is standing with her back to the racks, the boys are facing the direction Sasha comes from. They are a redhead, who looks rather joyful despite it being a Monday, and a boy with messy black hair and round glasses who, in contrast to his friend, seems tired. The redhead whispers – quite loudly for a whisper –, “Uh oh, snake spotted…”  
  
“Ronald!” Hermione chastises. She turns around, “Don’t mind him, Sasha, he often speaks without thinking.”  
  
“Oi!”  
  
“Aren’t you the new girl?” the other boy – Harry, most likely – asks, frowning at her.  
  
“Yes, I’m Sasha,” she replies as she walks closer and joins the group.  
  
“She’s okay, boys, she’s not like the other Slytherins. She’s actually nice,” Hermione tells them.  
  
The black-haired boy smiles, though his smile seems strained and his eyes have a flicker of suspicion, “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Ron.”  
  
“Nice to meet you,” she nods.  
  
It was rather easy to find the three friends, luckily. She doesn’t want to make any more ‘friends’ than is needed for her plans. “What is the odd look on your face for, Ron?”  
  
“I’m just surprised a Slytherin can be nice, is all.”  
  
“Um, thank you?” She smiles at them. “So you two are the ones who hate books, right?” She looks at Hermione for confirmation.  
  
“Yes, that’s them. See,” she turns to the boys, “I found someone who does like books. Told you I wasn’t the only one.”  
  
“Well, then you’re both unique,” Ron decides.  
  
“I needed to look over your potions essays?” Hermione then asks.  
  
“Oh, may I read along? That way I can see what you’re learning currently, as I haven’t attended a class as of yet.”  
  
“Of course. Come on, we’ll sit at that table over there.”  
  
The four of them talk until dinner time, hardly getting any work done. As it turns out, getting close to them while being a Slytherin isn’t so hard after all. They are walking to the great hall for dinner, still talking, when they come across Severus in one of the corridors.  
  
“Potter. Not causing trouble again, are we?”  
  
“No sir,” his eyes are narrowed and Sasha feels the hostility flowing off him in waves.  
  
“Well, run along. I need to talk to Ms Louhi, here.”  
  
“Yes sir.” The three of them quickly continue their way. They look over their shoulders, though, to give Sasha a pitying look. She simply smiles, shaking her head when they are out of sight.  
  
“Come,” the professor orders.  
  
“You say that quite often, have you noticed?”  
  
“Hm. Hasn’t their mindless blubbering bored you yet?”  
  
She chuckles, “No, not yet. They’re not so bad, really.”  
  
“Good thing you think so, you’ll be spending a lot of time with them.”  
  
“Where are we going?”  
  
“The Headmaster’s office.”  
  
As soon as they enter the eccentric room, Headmaster Dumbledore greets them, “Ms Louhi, Severus… I hope you like the castle, Sasha?”  
  
“I do, Headmaster. It’s…,” she looks for a fitting word, “intriguing.”  
  
“Good, very good. Now, first of all, Severus talked to me, earlier, and we have decided to give you a place in the Order. Severus appears to believe you are on our side, and so do I.”  
  
She nods. They are right in trusting her. She realises they don’t have a lot of proof, so she’s happy they believe her nonetheless. Severus must’ve told him about the legilimency; that was probably the main, if not only, reason for believing her.  
  
“And,” he continues, “we have acquired a wand for you.” He opens the top left drawer of his desk and takes out a long, thin, black box. He carefully takes out a darkly coloured wand. It's a dark brown, nearly black. Its surface is somewhat rough. The handle is well-defined with purposefully carved lines.  
  
“Here, try it.”  
  
“Thank you, Headmaster.”  
  
It’s a foreign feeling, holding a wand, sort of unwieldy to her, but she supposes she’ll get used to it.  
  
She focuses on a book that is laying on his desk and moves her wrist upwards, the wand following the movement, the same way she does usually with her hand. One half of it raises up into the air, but she can’t levitate the rest of it. “Hm.” She frowns.  
  
“Try this movement,” Severus takes out his wand and, focusing on the book, first whips it to the right and then down. The books completely rises.  
  
She imitates him, once it’s back on the desk. Indeed, the book levitates. “Thank you, Severus.”  
  
He nods.  
  
“You will still need to learn the names of incantations. It will be noticed if you always use wordless magic. And also the wand movements, apparently, as they seem to affect your magic. Perhaps Severus will assist you?”  
  
The professor simply nods again.  
  
“I will, headmaster,” Sasha answers.  
  
“Well then, one more thing. You will be spending the Christmas holidays with the Order, or, more specifically, with Harry and the Weasleys, since all of the Order won’t be at headquarters during the entire holiday.”  
  
“Will I?”  
  
“Yes, it’s the perfect opportunity to be introduced.”  
  
“That’s a good idea, indeed,” she agrees, “but I will need to leave for about two or three days, during the holidays, for personal matters. Is that acceptable?”  
  
“Yes, though I would advise you to go after you’ve been introduced and not during the festivities.”  
  
“That won’t be a problem, I don’t have a fixed date yet, anyway.”  
  
“Also, it might be best if you leave Hogwarts by train, like the other students. Perhaps even along with Harry, Mr Weasley and Ms Granger. I will let Mrs Weasley know she has to take you with them, as she’s the one who’ll come to get the three of them, along with the other Weasleys, from the railway station.”


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

The last week of term before the holidays passes quickly. Sasha doesn’t go to classes yet, and during this free time she studies the wand movements and incantations, like Dumbledore suggested. Whenever Severus has a free period, he assists her, by indicating the spells she should know about, the books she should consult, and a few other charms that could come in useful, one of these days. In between these ‘lessons’, they talk, quite reluctantly on Severus’ part, about his classes, the way she’ll have to act when they get summoned by the Dark Lord and about various other subjects.

The last day of school, Friday, she once again meets up with him in his office, for the last time. They have developed an understanding, perhaps even some kind of friendship, over the last week. He doesn’t intimidate her – he had to grudgingly accept that rather quickly – and she likes his snarky humour. He’d never admit it, but she is sure he likes that about her. 

She goes down to the dungeons at three o’clock in the afternoon, right when his last class has ended. She arrives when the students – fifth year Slytherins and Gryffindors – are leaving. Harry, Hermione and Ron are among the first to get out of the classroom.

Hermione greets her as soon as she notices her, “Hey, Sasha!”

“Hello, you three,” she answers, “This was your last class, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, thank Merlin!” Ron sighs. Hermione and Sasha laugh, Harry smiles slightly. Sasha has noticed the boy is never truly smiling, he always seems to be in his own world, and he’s easily annoyed. She has gotten used to it, though it is obvious he wasn’t always like this. She often sees Hermione and Ron looking at him with worried expressions on their faces. Due to the stress he undoubtedly has to endure and the fact that no one believes him about the return of the Dark Lord, she supposes it’s pretty normal of him to react this way. 

Since they are standing to the side of the door, almost all of the other students have left without noticing her. Sasha is glad. She just can’t stand the suspicious looks, every single time they spot her, especially when she’s with Hermione, Harry and Ron. She doesn't mind at all that she hasn’t made friends in Slytherin, since there are hardly any actual friendships in her House; everyone is focused on their own ambitions and will do anything to reach their goals. It’s just annoying to constantly feel eyes on her – don’t they have anything better to do? Each time she enters the Slytherin common room the students watch her suspiciously, often whispering about ‘dirty muggle-lover’ or ‘filthy Potter follower’ or something else equally offending. She never reacts, always pretends to not hear them, and continues on her way. Draco Malfoy did corner her, yesterday, in the morning, with a haughty look on his face – as usual. She still remembers the conversation with a smile.

_“Louhi, who are you? No one knows where you come from. And you befriended filthy Potter, that disgusting blood traitor and that ugly mudblood rather quickly. I want to know why,” the boy stated._

_She was fuming, though it didn’t show on the outside. Forcing herself to stay calm, she replied, “First of all, didn’t your father ever teach you not to swear? I’m sure he wouldn’t like to hear you talking about ‘mudbloods’ out in the open, now would he? And secondly, who I am and what I’m doing is none of your business.”_

_“How dare you, you—”_

_“I suggest you do not finish that sentence, Malfoy,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, unheard by the few other students in the room, “You wouldn’t want word of your unacceptable behaviour to get back to the Dark Lord, would you?”_

_He paled immediately, “How—Why—You wouldn’t,” he sputtered, before getting back his haughty look, “I bet you haven’t even met Him, how dare you speak of Him in this way.”_

_“If that’s what you think, it’s your mistake, Malfoy, beware of it.”_

That afternoon, when she had gone to Severus’ office, she had spoken of her irritation with that boy. Severus had silently nodded, a pensive look on his face.

Among the last to get out of the classroom is Malfoy, accompanied by Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle. He does notice her, unlike the other Slytherins, and he once again pales. She smiles slightly, raising her eyebrows. Did he finally understand she wouldn’t take his insults anymore? The boy quickly leaves the hallway. Odd. He does seem more fearful than she thought he would be after their conversation.

“Ms Louhi,” Severus’ baritone interrupts her thoughts, as the other three stop talking, “If you don’t mind,” standing in the doorway, he gestures towards the classroom, “I do not have all day.” His tone is sharp, and Sasha suspects this past lesson didn’t go as smoothly as he’d hoped – which is nothing new, really, considering this class consisted of Neville, Hermione, Harry and Ron, among other Gryffindors.

As Severus is still standing near them, the other three don’t dare say anything, so they just nod to Sasha and quickly leave the dungeons. As soon as they’re gone, Severus turns around and goes towards the door in the back of his classroom. She follows him, the two doors close behind them, and once more, as usual, they’re seated in his office. 

He’s writing some things down, while she waits. 

Finally, annoyed by his silence, she questions, “I suppose Longbottom couldn’t complete his potion, once again?” 

Severus doesn’t look up.

“You know, if you’re just going to sulk while I’m here waiting, I might as well just leave.”

Only when she makes a move to get up, does he react, “No. Stay.”

“You’re going to talk to me?”

He glares at her, but she isn’t intimidated. He finds it's weirdly refreshing to, for once, not have someone cower in fear before him.

“What do you want me to say? Hm? Those dunderheads have no idea what they’re doing. Have you got any idea of how frustrating that can be, not to mention dangerous, with these volatile ingredients, after not having had a proper night’s sleep for quite some time?”

“I do understand, in fact. But that was your last class before the holidays, you won’t have to teach them or even see them until January.”

“Except for the golden trio, of course,” he sneers.

“You know they will avoid you as much as possible, when you’ll come to headquarters. Besides, Mrs Weasley doesn’t want them to attend order meetings, as you told me, so you definitely won’t see them there.”

“They’ll still have to be there when Dumbledore tells everyone you’re part of the Order.”

She playfully narrows her eyes at him, “Do you always have to prove me wrong? And that’s just one meeting.”

The slightest glint in his eyes shows that, yes, he enjoys proving her wrong.

“Anyway, why did you want to see me today? I thought we’d gone over all the necessary facts and plans?”

“We have. I wished to see you to talk about the Dark Lord, something other than what I have already told you.”

She nods. The playful, friendly atmosphere is now completely gone. They’re strictly down to business.

He continues, “I was summoned, yesterday, to speak to him of you. He agreed to let you live, seeing a useful spy in you, so I suspect he’ll soon want to see the both of us, to know for certain whether you’re on his side.”

“That is very probable, indeed. So I’ll have to play the role of spy for him but actually be one for Dumbledore, like you?”

He nods, “You are aware of what you are supposed to say, how you are supposed to act?”

“Yes.”

They go over their preparations once more, as they won’t be seeing each other every day anymore, like it’s been the last week.

“I also told him of Draco Malfoy,” Severus tells her, suddenly. She’s surprised, she thought the man liked that boy. She tells him as much, to which he answers, “I don’t actually care for Draco, to be honest, he’s too conceited and proud. I pretend to, however, to keep up my cover of favouritism for the Death Eaters’ offspring.”

She nods understandingly, “He must’ve gotten a letter from his father, then, I suppose, as he didn’t say anything to me earlier, and looked even paler than usual.”

“He has indeed. Lucius wasn’t happy, neither was the Dark Lord, as you can imagine. He was rather amused by your performance, however, when he saw my memories of your rant.”

She feels her face warm up slightly, “Well, I was really annoyed, I couldn’t help it.”

He smirks at her as she smiles at the memory of how she acted. It must’ve indeed been rather humorous, she knows, as she thinks back on it.

“You will have to return to the muggle school you previously went to and obliviate them; they are probably wondering where you have gone,” he tells her. 

Before being caught up in this world, Sasha went to a ‘normal’ high school, because she wanted to experience it, never having gone to one before. This subject had come up in one of the many conversations she had had with Severus over the last few days. 

“I will, indeed, I thought about it already. I’ve planned to go at the beginning of next week, once I’m settled in at headquarters.” 

“Good. This is one of the days you have requested to leave Grimmauld Place?” 

“Yes.”

“You do know that you’ll have to leave whatever it is you’re doing to come with me if the Dark Lord calls, yes?”

“I do. Though I was wondering; how will I know when he calls, if you’re not near to tell me?”

“When you’re at headquarters, it won’t be an issue, I’ll know where to find you. If he calls whenever you have left Grimmauld Place, however, it will be a problem.”

“So you’ll have to come with me, I suppose?” Her face doesn’t show it, but she’s a bit worried about what he might find out about her, things no one else has ever known.

“I’m afraid so, yes.”

She sighs, “Okay then. I’ll let you know when I’ll leave and where to meet me, as soon as I’ve fixed a date. Do you have any days that might not work for you?”

“No. Just let me know as soon as possible.”

 

[To be continued]


End file.
